Ripped
by FortunesRevolver
Summary: It wasn't until he'd seen Asbel's swimsuit that Richard realised the dangers of having agreed to come to the beach resort that day. [Implied RichAss - mostly one-sided.]


So... this was literally a dream I had once. I don't really have an excuse for this madness, except a RichAss chat group I'm in on Skype all encouraged me to write this out in a fanfic. Thus, this was born. I put it up on my tumblr account a while back, and I meant to put it up on here too, but I somehow managed to get completely distracted and just forgot about doing so until now. Soooo... here it is. Yup. It's slightly edited from the tumblr version, but only really minor stuff that would be noticed if you _really_ paid attention.

Have some bizarre RichAss.

* * *

It wasn't until he'd seen Asbel's swimsuit that Richard realised the dangers of having agreed to come to the beach resort that day. Normally, watching the other, while a pastime he very much enjoyed, wasn't an issue. He'd known that the redhead would likely be shirtless – as that is how most male swimsuits tended to work – but he'd thought it would have been easy for him to keep his gaze trained on something else and he could spare a glance when the urge became too strong.

What he hadn't expected, was the horrible tease of a piece of fabric known as a vest.

With every move Asbel, the fabric would shift, swaying back and forth to reveal just a little more of the well-sculpted abs beneath. Each ripple of the muscles made something thick catch in Richard's throat, and for a moment, he'd forget the very important requirement of breathing. Asbel, Richard had always been certain, was beautiful, but he was still accustomed to seeing him nearly as fully clothed in his academy uniform. The temptation of skin seldom stretched further than a hand or elbow, and to see almost everything exposed like this left his mouth dry.

"Richard…?"

The monarch made a non-committal "hm?" in response as golden-honey eyes found themselves locked with Asbel's water-glazed chest once more. He could feel himself leaning forward unconsciously, mind wandering into places he never dared let it wander when he was in public before-just what would it feel like to _be_ that droplet of water slowly making his way down the knight's chest?

"Is something wrong with Asbel? You're staring at him funny..."

In his dazed state, the question only partially registered in Richard's mind as he shook his head once. The drop, while difficult to see, had almost made it to the waistband of Asbel's trunks. "No… There isn't an issue. I've… just now noticed how toned Asbel is. He must work so hard."

"Toned? Asbel is… toned?"

"Yes, his ab—" Before he could finish, Richard's mind finally tore itself out of its daze and he looked to the left. Beside him, Sophie sat looking up with a curious gaze as she wrung water from the tail of her swimsuit. Her eyes, wide and innocent as always, met his and he silently prayed that the sudden heat pooling in his face and stomach were due to the weather. "His voice." It was a lame excuse, and Richard knew it. He felt bad for taking advantage of Sophie's trusting nature, but perhaps this was one of the few times he could excuse himself for using it. "Asbel's voice has toned nicely over the years."

"His voice?" Sophie repeated, inclining her head to the side. Richard nodded in response, holding his breath as the violet-haired girl seemed to process this information. A full minute that felt closer more like an hour passed before she nodded once and seemed to accept this reasoning. "Asbel's voice is nice… It's warm and comforting."

Thankful that he wouldn't need to elaborate his actions further, Richard smiled weakly. As he opened his mouth to reply, a splash caught both their attention and the two shifted their focus to the water. Whatever game Asbel had been playing with Cheria resulted in her tripping and falling directly into his lap. Asbel's back was to Richard now and, while thankful Cheria hadn't been hurt, he couldn't help the sudden feeling of disappointment that formed in the back of his mind seeing the two that way. Still, it had been a few minutes and she was still in the same spot. Shouldn't she have gotten up by now? It was more than obvious that the healer was just fine - nothing she couldn't have handled on her own. There was no sign of injury and there was no further reason – as she was not laughing _that_ hard – for her to _still_ be in Asbel's lap.

As he'd prepared a teasing comment in his mind, the words had never gotten a chance to leave his lips before Cheria moved. She was _hugging_ Asbel. Her slender arms wrapped around Asbel's shoulders as they two continued to laugh merrily about _something,_ and whatever it was had begun to push the limits of a nerve Richard wasn't aware had existed until that moment. Biting his lip, Richard resigned to keep quiet, and everything would have been just fine – really, the situation wasn't that bad – until he'd noticed Cheria looking _right at him_. For a moment, caramel-brown met honey and they'd simply stared at one another.

And then she'd _smirked_.

Something in Richard's stomach roared in protest, making it difficult for him to hold a straight face. His fists clenched unconsciously as he silently cursed, willing himself to remain calm and not walk over to the water, pull Asbel to his feet and simply leave. Yes, Asbel's lap was comfortable – he'd fallen into it a number of times himself – but Cheria was very aware of the situation and her expression of superiority had not only shocked him, but send his mind into a storm. Realising that this was absolutely not at all a proper way to be thinking about his _friend,_ the monarch forced himself to avert his gaze – he most certainly was _not_ imagining himself in Cheria's place and he was _not_ jealous; as jealousy was not at all befitting of a king – and tried to give Sophie his full attention once more.

Unfortunately, the Sophie's distraction was short-lived as the two water-goers made their way back toward the umbrella. Whatever they'd been laughing about still had both of them in light giggles until Cheria finally stopped, a soft "oh" breaking the laughter. "Asbel… your trunks ripped."

It took more willpower than Richard ever would have expected to keep from faltering in mid-sentence. His expression was strained, but if Sophie noticed it, she didn't comment as she happily continued her speech about the crablettes she'd been promised upon their return to Windor later that night. Carefully, he shifted his gaze just enough to glance a few feet to his right to see that, along the leg, Asbel's trunks were, in fact, ripped open and exposing the creamy skin of his thigh. He was barely able to suppress a shudder as he swallowed yet another lump that had formed in his throat.

"Huh?" Looking down, Asbel blinked in response to the hole, slipping his finger between the torn pieces of fabric with a small frown. "How did...? It must have been a rock when we fell. I didn't even notice…"

Clicking her tongue, Cheria shook her head as she bent down to survey the damage, blocking Richard's view of the other male's leg, and allowing him to throw his efforts into pretending to focus on Sophie. It was, however, all in vain, as the healer's next words made the king go completely still.

"Come back to the changing rooms with me," she'd took Asbel's hand and began pulling him toward the resort's main building. "If we take them off, I can sew them up for you."

"Huh? Oh…" Smiling, Asbel nodded in response, the near-implications of her statement lost on his trusting mind. "Thanks, Cheria. I'd feel bad asking for another one after the resort manager had given us these as gifts."

Before he could stop himself, Richard stood abruptly, starling Sophie out of her crablette-driven rant. His head collided with the spokes at the top of the beach umbrella, nearly knocking it over as he moved over to the two friends, effectively blocking Cheria's path. "Cheria,I can take care of this," he gestured to Asbel, shrugging off his cloak to wrap around the knight's shoulders. It really wouldn't do if anyone else were to start staring at him. No, that wasn't acceptable. "There's no need for you to trouble yourself when you do so much for us already."

"Um…" Asbel began, but was almost immediately cut off by Cheria's all-too-innocent tone.

"But your majesty, there's no need to trouble yourself. I have a sewing kit in Asbel's bag and—"

"Then I'll use that."

"Uh..." the knight tried again, looking between his friends. He couldn't begin to guess what was going on, but the atmosphere was uncomfortably similar to the incident in the Gustworks Ruins. Even if Mailk had been teasing him at the time, he wasn't sure he could handle more of the metaphorical hen-house trouble. "I could fix it myself. I really don't want to trouble either of you."

Not bothering to respond, Richard stepped forward and scooped Asbel into his arms with ease, earning a soft yelp of protest from the knight in response. Beside them, Cheria could only stare as the monarch began walking away with their childhood friend, the sound of Asbel's protesting voice fading as they got further away.

"R-Richard! It's just my swimsuit. There's no need for you to do this—I'm fine. Really. I can still walk."

"It wouldn't do if you ripped them more, Asbel. Just trust me."

For a moment, neither Cheria nor Sophie moved. Oblivious to all that had transpired, the flower-girl looked between the empty space where her male friends had been standing moments earlier and the pink-haired healer, curious as to what had just happened. Before she could ask, Cheria had turned on the spot, plopping down in the now unoccupied space on the blanket, a smug look on her face as she announced in a satisfied tone, "Damn, I'm good."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Nearly an hour of playing ball in the water had passed before Sophie looked back toward the locker rooms with a small frown. "Cheria? Asbel and Richard aren't back yet... Do you think they were able to fix his pants?"

Eyes gleaming with an all-knowing look, Cheria shook her head and moved forward toward the water, gently pushing Sophie back toward the beach. "Don't worry about it, Sophie," she assured the young girl with a smile. "Why don't you go find a nice big stick and we'll open the watermelon?"


End file.
